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The Beggars at Sant Felieux

Crawdad Nelson
Looking into the sun outside,

my own little separatist movement

on the stone bridge crossing to the medieval side

a man with a plastic cup, not asking, simply a fact.

At the door of the cathedral, the man explains to you

this door will do--his cup full of Euro coins, odd bald

headed men on obverse faces--copper,

precious, toward the interior, full of saints

locked into scenes of perpetual suffering, pricked

with arrows, drizzled over flame

officially worse-off than the crone

yesterday outside la Sagrada Familia

explaining in four languages

that she is good--

the hefty clank

of metal on her blessed palm

distracts me as the Spanish girls

stand around in miniskirts.

Published by Crawdad Nelson

I'm a student, journalist, naturalist and forager. I've worked in a variety of occupations, from greenchain puller to small magazine editor, sometimes more than one at a time.  View profile

2 Comments

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  • Fern Fischer5/27/2010

    fantastic piece

  • Jan Corn3/13/2010

    I'm addicted to reading your poetry. Such vivid images and sense of place, etc.

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